


It Had to be You

by PalenDrome (nerdherderette)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Childhood Memories, Civil Engineer Armitage Hux, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, Fluff, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Holiday Fic Exchange, Holidays, Humor, Hux is a bit of an arse, Kylux Secret Santa 2019, M/M, Meet-Cute, Millicent the cat - Freeform, Pilot Ben Solo, Romance, Sexual Content, Snark, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, young ben is a bit of an awkward mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:29:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21869044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdherderette/pseuds/PalenDrome
Summary: Hux can't reconcile the fact that the annoying brat who used to visit the Skywalkers next door is now the hottest guy he's ever met.[excerpt]:"I have plans with Phasma," Hux says in a last-ditch effort."I thought you said Phasma wasn't your girlfriend?" For the first time, Brendol seems interested. "The two of you spend an awful lot of time together."Jesus fucking Christ. Hux doesn't waste his breath trying to explain to his dad that boys and girls can just be friends, and he's certainly not stupid enough to mention that his jerk-off material involves more dick than tits.“She’s just someone I know from camp.”"Well, I'm sure she'll understand, then," Brendol says as Hux lets out a long groan. He can't believe he's spending his Saturday watching over some pissbaby because his dad has a boner for climbing up the social ladder.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo, Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 46
Kudos: 334
Collections: Kylux Fanworks Secret Santa 2019





	It Had to be You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Glass_Oceans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_Oceans/gifts).



> You are such a beautiful presence in fandom and I was thrilled to write something for you! To be honest, I had two fics that were over halfway written with your signup in mind: one angst-y, and the other a piece of purely indulgent, a/b/o smut. But then TROS came out and neither felt right. So I scrapped everything in favor of something fluffy and mildly porn-y, with various nods to TFA and TLJ. Kisses and hugs also to KTC, who clued me into your likes!
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes as this was written at literally the eleventh hour, but I hope I was able to capture some of the reasons why Kylux will always hold such a special place in our hearts. Happy holidays, lovely! ❤️

* * *

The first time Hux sees him there's a frown on his face and his dark brows are drawn down into a scowl.

"What are you doing?" the boy asks. He stands in the corner of the sandbox, his small feet planted in the corner even as his body leans forward curiously.

Hux rolls his eyes. He looks over to the other side of the yard where his father is talking to the Skywalkers from next door. Mr. Skywalker is old—older than Hux's dad, and with a weird first name, but he's not the kind of old like Mrs. Kanata down the street. Mr. Skywalker flies planes for the Navy and performs in all these cool shows, and Mrs. Skywalker travels a lot, too; Hux's dad says she's an am-bas-sa-dor, whatever that means. They're not home a lot, but today they stopped by just because their grandson is visiting for the week, and they thought Hux would like to meet him.

As if. Hux is much more grown up at eight, while this boy is, like, _five._

"I'm building a super weapon," Hux says, unable to help preening as the boy's eyes widen. He's been working on it all day, going so far as to build a small village around which the weapon will be housed.

"That's cool," the boy says, breathless. "Can I help?" He looks at Hux shyly, rocking back and forth on his feet. "I'm Ben."

Hux darts a look at his father, who is watching him with a frown. "I'm Hux," he sighs. "And yeah...um, you can help." He looks around the perimeter of the sandbox, trying to think of what looks safe. His face pales as Ben takes two steps forward, teetering on his chubby legs. "Why don't you look around the yard for some nice stones?"

Ben sticks out his lower lip. "Why?"

"Because." Hux takes in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. "I need...um, some crystals to power up the super weapon. They're special _kyber_ _crystals,"_ Hux improvises as Ben's eyes light up. "Please?"

Apparently, the _Please_ and the thin smile that accompanies it is all Ben needs. "Okay!" he says eagerly as he clambers out of the sandbox and starts to scour the yard.

Hux goes back to his design. That should keep Ben busy for at least another—

"How about this one?" Ben asks, shoving a pebble in Hux's face.

Hux doesn't bother to hold back his groan. He takes the rock from Ben's outstretched hand and examines it. It's unusual, red with white crystalline veins running through its center, and Hux doesn't know how Ben could find such a strange and unusual piece in the entirety of the yard in under a minute.

"It's cracked," Hux says simply.

"It's pretty."

Hux gnashes his teeth. "It's _cracked._ It won't catch the energy properly. Go find another one."

The playdate ends as suddenly as it started when Ben throws the rock into the middle of Hux's carefully laid out village and proceeds to throw a tantrum. Mr. and Mrs. Skywalker come running, apologies spilling from their lips, but all Hux can do is stare at the mess Ben's made of the work that's consumed Hux's entire afternoon.

**~X~**

"I don't understand why he can't be left alone."

Brendol's eyes flash with displeasure. "Because he's only thirteen years old, Armitage, and staying in a town he's unfamiliar with."

"That's not true. Ben's been here plenty." Hux whines. He's been successful in avoiding Ben for most summers, aside from a cursory 'hello' despite Ben's obvious attempts to capture Hux's attention by waving his arms or shouting Hux's name. Hux has never been so glad for camp and a schedule that forces him to get up early during his summer vacation as in those moments. "Besides, he's probably just going to lock himself in his room, anyway. He's so _emo._ I bet he sits in the back of his class and listens to My Chemical Romance, thinking about how he's misunderstood while secretly plotting to take over the world."

"Anakin asked this of you specifically. You are not turning down his request," Brendol says with an infuriating finality. Hux has seen his father kiss Mr. Skywalker's ass in every way possible, yet it's never yielded any of the connections his father so desperately craves.

"I have plans with Phasma," Hux says in a last-ditch effort.

"I thought you said Phasma wasn't your girlfriend?" For the first time, Brendol seems interested. "The two of you spend an awful lot of time together."

Jesus fucking Christ. Hux doesn't waste his breath trying to explain to his dad that boys and girls can just be friends, and he's certainly not stupid enough to mention that his jerk-off material involves more dick than tits.

“Nah. She’s just someone I know from camp.”

"Well, I'm sure she'll understand, then," Brendol says as Hux lets out a long groan. He can't believe he's spending his Saturday watching over some pissbaby because his dad has a boner for climbing up the social ladder.

*****

Hux knows it's rude but he can't help the laughter that spills from the corner of his mouth.

"Seriously," he gasps as Ben's scowl grows deeper. "What exactly are you supposed to be?"

Ben draws his knees close to his chest. The bed in the Skywalker's guest bedroom is at least a double, but Ben's shot up like a weed since the summer before when Hux last saw him, and his limbs are long and gangly, as if he doesn't quite know what to do with them. He looks uncomfortable and out of place just as much as his all-black clothing does against the rose-cabbage print bedspread.

"I'm the Supreme Leader of the Knights of Ren," Ben says as he fiddles with the hem of his cloak.

"You're the Supreme Leader of _something,"_ Hux mutters under his breath.

"What?" Ben bites out, his eyes narrowing.

Hux hums brightly. No reason he can't have a bit of fun if he's stuck here for the morning. "Nothing," he says with a smirk, giving Ben a wink as he walks past him and deposits himself in a chair in the corner. He props his feet up on the desk and twiddles his thumbs, but after five minutes of enduring Ben's penetrating gaze, he drops them back down and sighs.

"Thirteen, right?" Hux asks in a gracious effort to make conversation. "So you're going to be starting high school in September."

Ben doesn't look happy. "Yeah. My parents are sending me to some boarding school in New Hampshire."

"You're not excited?" Hux would love to get out of Arkanis Hills; he's going to be applying for colleges soon, and none of them are within a thousand mile radius.

Ben shrugs. "I guess. It's not like I see my parents a lot, anyway."

"How come?"

"My mom's a journalist and my dad's a pilot."

"Oh? Does he fly for an airline or is he like your grandfather?"

"Neither. He does private charters mostly, even though he has his ATPL license. And _no one_ is like my granddad." Ben's eyes light up. "Wanna see something cool?"

Hux lifts a brow. "Sure."

Ben scrambles onto his feet, his limbs flailing. He looks like he's about to fall all over himself, the antithesis of grace, but he manages to remain upright as he dives into the closet and rummages about. When he emerges, he's carrying something that looks like a helmet, although it's not like any helmet Hux has ever seen before.

"Woah," Hux says as he stares at the bundle of Kevlar-sheathed cords and ocular projections as well as a fancy oxygen mask. "Where'd you get that?"

"It's my granddad's. He's working on a new prototype for the Blue Angels." Ben strokes over the top of the bone dome almost reverently. "I'm going to be a fighter pilot just like him when I grow up. Although maybe for the Air Force instead of the Navy."

The image of a goth Ben in a military flight suit nearly has Hux choking. He feels a rare moment of compassion steal over him upon seeing Ben's hope displayed so openly.

Eh, well. Better for the kid to know the truth sooner rather than later. "You know you have to meet a lot of qualifications to be a fighter pilot, right?"

Ben's look shutters. "Yeah, so?"

Hux swallows, suddenly uncomfortable. "Well, it's not like you can be one just because Anakin is. You have to be smart enough, be fit enough, and there's some things you can't even control, like your medical condition and size."

"I know all that!" Ben straightens, his hands clenched in fists by his sides. "I have the grades and there won't be any problems passing the tests when the time comes."

"Ben…" Hux tries to be gentle, but there's no easy way to say this. "You can't even get up off the bed without practically face-planting on the floor. They're going to eat you alive."

Ben's face reddens and he looks like he's going to cry. "Take that back," he hisses.

"Trust me. I'm older and wiser."

"Take. It. Back," Ben repeats, taking another step forward.

Hux rolls his eyes. Seriously, there's something about Ben that makes him revert to his most childish inclinations. "Make me."

No sooner did the words leave his mouth before Ben came flying at him, tackling Hux at the waist. Hux feels himself falling to the ground, his head narrowly missing the feet of the chair, and oh boy, _is it on._ He brings his arms between them and pushes against Ben's chest, but despite Ben's slightly smaller size and scrawny frame, the younger boy is surprisingly strong. He resists Hux's attempts to push him aside and manages to roll Hux over, eventually pinning Hux against the floor as he straddles Hux and sits down on Hux's thighs.

Hux is sure his face is red, from his embarrassment as well as the fact that his face is smashed against the nub of the carpet. He can barely breathe with the way Ben's pressing forcefully, his hand weighted down between Hux's shoulders.

"Let me up, you Neanderthal," Hux manages to wheeze.

Ben doesn't respond, grinding down harder on Hux instead. All of a sudden he stiffens, then flies off of Hux, retreating back to the bed.

Hux rolls over and takes several deep breaths. When he stands, he tries to do so as calmly as possible, although his heart is racing and his hair is a mess. "Shit," he spits, his fingers gingerly massaging his neck. Ben watches him, guilt washing over his face as Hux runs his hand along the line of his throat before clearing it.

"Fighter pilots have to pass psychological tests, you know," Hux finally manages.

Ben blushes, the pink stealing up to the tips of his ears. "Actually no, they don't."

Huh. "Lucky for you, I guess." Hux sits back down in the chair as Ben's face reddens further before settling back into its familiar scowl. Hux sighs and looks at his watch. The minutes can't go by fast enough.

**~O~**

"Goddammit." Hux fumbles his keys, the chain jangling from his gloved hands and falling into the snow. He's home later than anticipated after Pryde pulled an "emergency" meeting (on a Saturday, no less), and to make matters worse, he still has to visit his father at the nursing home. It's strange, being back in Arkanis Hills after all these years. But when Brendol's health began to fail a month ago, Hux moved back from San Francisco and swapped out his job with one of the largest urban designing firms to become a building control surveyor, unwilling to let his relationship with his last remaining family member fall by the wayside despite their contentious past.

Hux shifts his messenger bag around his shoulder and pulls at his glove with his teeth. He manages to dig out his keys from the snowbank, sacrificing the feeling in his fingertips in the process as he winces from the biting cold. The key jiggles in the lock, uncooperative at first, until Hux puts a bit of muscle into it and finesses it open.

He barely has time to reposition the bag and tuck his wayward glove into his coat pocket before a streak of orange fur darts between his legs and dashes out the door.

"Millicent!" Hux throws his bag into the entranceway and slams the door shut as he bolts after the tabby. His shoes slip against the slick concrete; he's not someone who works out a lot, lucky to maintain his lithe physique without a gym membership at the age of thirty, and the flat soles of his footwear are hardly appropriate for the winter weather. He curses his luck as he watches Millicent run between the slatted fence of the Skywalker's yard.

Hux reverses direction to enter through the Skywalker's driveway instead, pausing for a moment to admire the Porsche Cayenne Turbo that sits out front, emblazoned with the license plate 'KOR2015'. He didn't know Anakin and Padme were back—the last he'd heard, they were down in San Diego, snowbirding for the winter. Plus...wow, nice car. It was good to see that they still enjoyed fast things, despite being in their 80s. His gaze reverts back to Millicent, who is now sitting on the Skywalker's front stoop, her head cocked as she watches him archly.

"Don't you dare," Hux hisses as Millicent begins pawing at the door. He takes several steps forward as her body tenses, seemingly ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

"Stop right now, or there will be no cream for you," Hux threatens. He inches closer, wishing he didn't feel so much like the prey in this cat-and-mouse game they've got going on, when the door opens. Hux's heart drops as Millicent darts inside, colliding with the pair of long legs standing before her.

"I'm so sorry," Hux begins as the stranger bends down and gathers Millicent in his arms.

Hux's stomach swoops and his mouth drops, his next words stuck in his throat. It could be because Millicent is now nuzzling against the man's neck and _purring,_ or it could be because the arms that are holding her are gentle yet undeniably strong (that’s one _amazing_ pair of biceps), or it could be because Mr. Hottie’s eyes are gorgeous and he’s built like a Greek god with a luscious mane of hair even Samson would be jealous of.

He’s just about the fittest fucking guy Hux has ever seen.

"Uhhhhh," is all that Hux can manage. The man smiles; it's cocky yet playful, and Hux actually feels his heart melt. "I'm sorry. About Millicent." Hux jerks his head at his charge, who is perhaps not in as much trouble as she was five minutes ago, because, hello _gorgeous?!_ "I moved back home last month but she's a city cat at heart, and I'm terrified she'll take off and be lost." Which is, truth be told, a bit of how Hux feels now when faced with the living embodiment of his most fervent wank fantasies.

Hux shakes his head, remembering his manners. "I'm Armitage Hux. I live next door. Actually, I grew up next door, and just moved back to help with my dad." He's torn between shaking the man's hand and running his fingers along the man's chest, just to see if it's as breathtakingly sculpted as it looks. The stranger is still holding Millicent, who looks comfortable as she rubs her face against the man's well-fitted henley.

Hux never thought he'd be jealous of the damn cat.

"Hux. It's me. Ben." Luckily for Hux, Ben bends to gently place Millicent down on the floor. Hux's gaze travels from the curve of Ben's ass (well-defined in a pair of dark-blue skinny jeans) to his tapered waist and broad shoulders. He drinks in the tall, strong lines, gaping when Ben straightens up to show off the cute half-apron that's tied around his waist. Hux’s brain sputters, unable to reconcile the clumsy and socially awkward boy with the domesticated hunk in front of him.

 _Wow, puberty does a body good._ "Oh my god, do you _bake_ as well?" Hux asks instead. His nostrils flare, and he sighs a little when he smells hints of sugar and cinnamon.

"Yes, I'm…" Pink colors the apples of Ben's cheeks. "Come on into the kitchen. I've been making sugar cookies; I heard you were back in town, and I was going to bring you some later." He leads Hux into a bright and airy kitchen where the expansive marble countertops are covered with trays of cooling cookies and an array of icings in various colors.

There's one batch that's been already decorated, with Santas and snowmen and reindeer. Ben takes a hold of one by the edges; apparently, he determines that it's ready for consumption, for he places it on a napkin and hands it to Hux, then waits expectantly.

Hux lifts the cookie and eyes it. It's iced beautifully, the colors are even and smooth, and the details of the buttons and eyes well-proportioned and clean. "So you're a chef?" Hux asks. Because that would be pretty sexy, considering Hux's acumen for dinner consists of speed-dialing the various take-out restaurants saved on his phone.

Ben laughs softly. It's deep and warm and sends a thrill through Hux that curls his toes. "No. I'm a fighter pilot; no psychological testing, remember?" he teases. "I was part of the F-16 Viper Demonstration team—we unofficially called ourselves the Knights of Ren—but I just got transferred to Camp Beale to be part of the 9th Reconnaissance Wing. I'm not really one for privatized housing, so I'm staying at my grandparents' place while I look for something in the private sector." There's a slightly smug look on Ben's face that lets Hux know he's not completely forgiven Hux for his comments fourteen years ago.

It just makes Ben that much hotter. "So, Maverick. Are these cookies merely pretty like you, or are they just as delicious?"

If anything, Ben looks sheepish at the compliment, the tips of his lashes brushing over his flushed cheeks. "I bake on my off-time, to relax. I'm not that bad, I promise."

Hux arches a brow. "I'll be the judge of that," he says, taking a tentative bite. The cookie is light and breaks cleanly on his tongue, the flavors of butter and vanilla and sugar making him moan out loud. "Oh my god, I could marry you," Hux groans around the tasty morsel. His face flames once he realizes what he's said. "I mean, uh, I could marry this cookie. It's probably the best thing I've eaten all week." There's a tiny set of claws digging into Hux's pant leg; Hux breaks off a tiny portion of Santa's hat and lets Millicent nibble. She licks at the crumb, then looks up and meows pitifully.

Ben's eyes soften, their color turning a beautiful gold-brown. "Tell you what. I'll come on over after the last batch is finished and bring you some. I think I even have a piece of cooked salmon for Millicent."

"Okay." Hux smiles, surprised at how fast his heart beats at the prospect of Ben's upcoming visit.

*****

As it turns out, it's not a long wait. Ben shows up on Hux's front step less than twenty minutes later, bearing a platter of cookies and a small tupperware container filled with salmon and brown rice.

Hux takes the containers from Ben and places them on the console. Their hands brush, and Hux notices that Ben's face pinks after the contact.

It's a beautiful look, the stain of self-consciousness against pale skin. The added color _could_ be from the fact that Ben ran over without a coat in forty-degree weather. But that wouldn't explain why Ben's breath hitches, or how he's staring at Hux, unconsciously licking his lips.

Hux turns around slowly and bridges the distance between them.

"I'm going out on a limb here," Hux says softly as Ben's eyes widen. "And stop me at any point if I'm way off base. But we haven't seen each other in a long, long time, and bringing me cookies? Well, that's a pretty fucking nice thing to do. So I'm assuming that you're not just being neighborly, but that you might actually _like_ me, even a little bit." When Ben doesn't contradict him, Hux's smile grows larger as he continues. "And I think it only fair to point out that you're ridiculously attractive, and I'm trying my best not to jump into your arms to see if they're as strong as I imagine."

Ben swallows. "I've had a lot of years to work out. I won't face-plant into the floor if you want to try out that last thing."

Hux pushes into Ben's space, forcing Ben's back against the wall. They're roughly the same height—Ben's perhaps got an inch or two on Hux, at most, but his sheer size makes him appear so much larger. Hux draws a finger tip along the line of Ben's jaw; Ben's eyes grow dark before his hand winds along the back of Hux's neck and draws him in.

Hux sighs. He can't help the shiver of pleasure that rushes through him upon tasting Ben's lips, at feeling the softness that yields under the insistence of Hux's mouth. Ben tastes like cookie batter and cedar with a touch of pine and danger and _home,_ and Hux finds himself cradling Ben's face between his hands, drawing Ben closer, unable to get enough.

A whimper escapes him as Ben's hand lowers along the line of Hux's back. It's huge, like the rest of him, and as it skates down between Hux's shoulder blades and heads towards the dip of Hux's spine he remembers the force Ben had wielded all those years ago when they'd fought. But this time the pressure isn't unwelcome or shocking. This time, when Ben finally cups Hux’s ass and kneads the heated flesh through the thickness of the denim, Hux's hips tilt forward, his cock seeking friction against the solidity of Ben's thigh as Hux lets out a low moan.

"Oh my god," he gasps. Ben answers by grabbing Hux's ass more forcefully and drawing him in, the rigid length of Ben's own prick unmistakable despite the layers of their clothes. "I need to feel you," Hux begs. His mouth waters at the prospect as he ruts shamelessly against the thick bulge and Ben makes all these rumbling growls.

Suddenly, Ben yanks Hux into his arms. Hux yelps as he's lifted into the air, and he doesn't even have time to feign embarrassment as he wraps his legs instinctively around Ben's hips. Ben turns, uncertain, and Hux realizes it's because he's not sure where they should be going.

"There," Hux says imperiously, pointing Ben in the direction of the sectional. Since he's been back, Hux has made his childhood bedroom his temporary residence, with his astronomy posters and a full-size bed that's too small for even one. "I'm still living out of a suitcase; I never expected to stay for as long as I have," Hux explains.

Ben maneuvers them around the pieces of furniture like it's nothing. He lays Hux down on the sofa and climbs on top, then pushes up onto his elbows, the cords of his forearms and neck muscles straining from the effort as he hovers over Hux

"How are you even real?" Hux asks. He wants to reach out and brush the lock of hair that's hanging across Ben's forehead to the side, but at the last minute, settles for running his hand along Ben's hips. When Ben shifts, the hem of his shirt rises, exposing a set of washboard abs and a dark trail of hair that disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Hux follows its path, his smile widening as Ben lets out a nearly painful hiss.

"Poor baby. You look uncomfortable," Hux says, licking his lips. He undoes the button of Ben's jeans, then lowers the zipper. "Maybe I should lend you a hand."

There's something about the way that Ben goes rigid over him after hearing the words, with how he's holding his breath, pupils blown and mouth slightly gaping, that emboldens Hux. It's as if despite all of Ben's physical strength and impressive accomplishments, Hux can still take him apart.

"Please." It's said so quietly that Hux nearly misses it, but he doesn't miss the way Ben shudders. "Please," Ben says once more, his dark gaze locking onto Hux's.

Hux slips his hand under Ben's boxers. There's already fluid collecting at the tip of Ben's cock, and when Hux brushes his thumb against the smooth skin, he feels another bead of moisture oozing from the slit. He maneuvers his hand so it slides down the shaft; even with the awkward angle, Hux can feel how deliciously thick it is. If he's lucky enough to have a second go, he can't wait to feel its heavy weight against his tongue.

Right now, though, Ben is thrusting up into the circle of Hux's fingers as small, broken sounds escape his mouth. He brings a hand between them and palms Hux's cock somewhat clumsily; the pressure from the way Hux's dick strains against his zipper and Ben's stilted movements makes Hux gasp, just on the other side of _too much._ Hux rolls his hips, chasing the relief _and_ the friction. He speeds his movements, ignoring the burn in his wrist as Ben's eyes grow glassy while Hux focuses on bringing Ben off.

The firmer and more insistent Hux's movements, the more Ben seems to respond. It's when Hux gives a particularly strong twist, the side of his thumb sweeping over Ben's swollen cockhead, that Ben loses control.

Ben arches and comes with a cry, the muscles in his belly flexing as he coats Hux's hand with his come. He's barely finished before he fumbles around with the zipper of Hux's pants, both of them breathing sighs of relief as he wraps his hand around Hux's aching prick. Hux is exquisitely sensitive, already on edge, and he knows it'll be embarrassingly fast. But it's when Ben stares at Hux with awe in his eyes, his face determined yet almost disbelieving as he leans down for a kiss, that Hux feels the slow heat of his impending orgasm build in his belly. It's the press of Ben's tongue inside Hux's mouth, the heat of his body as he towers over Hux, shielding him from the inside and out, that makes Hux lose control as he finally spills with Ben's name on his lips.

Hux pushes against Ben, his cock wrung out and too sensitive against Ben's hand. He's hot and sticky, and the leather cushions cling unceremoniously to any strip of exposed skin.

Ben strips off his shirt. He wipes his hands along the henley's bottom before turning it inside out and handing it over to Hux.

Hux makes a face. It's a half-hearted protest, especially when Ben looks at him fondly. He remains quiet for a bit, long enough for Ben to frown.

"You're thinking. You're always thinking."

"That's not true," Hux says as he finishes cleaning himself off. "I _can't_ think. You're too distracting." He waves his hand at Ben's naked torso; honestly, it's a miracle Hux even has enough brain cells left to form the words.

Ben huffs out a laugh. There's enough room for him to lay on his side and gather Hux close, but barely.

"I wasn't very nice to you when we were younger," Hux says eventually. "Why would you—?" He falters; he doesn't want to finish his thought, but if they don't hash this out now, he'll forever be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Want you?" Ben guesses.

Hux nods, swallowing loudly.

Ben sighs, biting his lower lip. "You're not wrong. There were plenty of times where you were rude and petty, or downright mean to me. But I didn't make it easy for you, either. Remember when we first met?"

Hux looks out the patio window. The sandbox is now gone, a flower bed in its place, but he remembers that day perfectly.

"I was really excited to visit my grandparents," Ben continues. "Not only because I thought they were the coolest people ever—still do—but because I was so _lonely._ My parents were always busy, and I remember thinking, not only do I get to have fun, but maybe I could make a new friend. And there you were, this cooler, smarter, older boy. I wanted so badly to impress you"

Hux laughs. "You ended up destroying my super weapon, if I remember correctly."

Ben winces. "Yeah. And I think that set up a pattern for getting your attention afterwards. But there were also things I liked. You protected me, like that time you picked me up off the playground when I was pushed around by that girl. You talked to me like a real person. You challenged me and didn't put up with my bullshit. And…" Ben coughs. "That time we fought at my grandparents'? After I showed you my grandfather's helmet?"

"Yes?" Hux asks, curious to see where this is all leading to.

"Let's just say I suddenly had a very clear perspective of my sexuality."

"Oh." Hux puffs up a bit upon hearing the news. After all, he's getting this congratulatory pat-on-the-back from Ben. Who's still, in some ways, dorky and impulsive and awkward. But who's also an amazing chef, a kick-ass fighter pilot, and burning-like-the-sun hot while being sweet and considerate.

Holy hell. Ben's actually _perfect._

Millicent jumps onto the couch. She strides over with her nose in the air, then turns around and curls up in the space between their feet. Ben reaches over and scratches her head. She leans into his palm and purrs, adopting a smug, contented expression.

Hux can relate. "This is so unfair," Hux says as he presses the heel of his hand against Ben's chest (and yes, it's every bit a firm as it looks). "I'd love to stay here all day and further discuss my finer qualities, but I have to see my dad before visiting hours are over. Can I take you out to dinner later instead?"

"I'd like that," Ben grins.

Dinner...perhaps followed by some more sex. _Lots_ more sex. And then breakfast. And who knows, eventually, if things are right, they might even try to find a place together—

"You're doing it again," Ben observes. "Thinking too much."

"I was kind of thinking that we did everything backwards. Sex first, dating second." He peers at Ben, hoping he's not reading things incorrectly.

Ben bursts out laughing. "Armitage Hux, we've been pulling each other's pigtails for twenty-two years. If anything, we've been moving at glacial speed." He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling, but his next words are serious and soft. "I think, in a strange way, I've always known. That it was you I'd end up with, all along."

Hux traces Ben's mouth with his finger before repeating the movement with his lips and then his tongue. He feels the way Ben's body goes pliant against his own, they way their breaths surrender to each other. He might not believe in religion or fate, but he can't deny the truth to Ben's words. That somehow, they've always been drawn to each other.

"Careful, Ben," Hux says. "Or else I'm going to hold you to that promise."

"Good," Ben says as Millicent purrs her agreement.

**~❤️XOXO❤️~**

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> *Come say "hi" on Tumblr: [nerdherderette](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nerdherderette)


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